Amnesiac
by Fankid
Summary: RH Fanfiction find more @cheesecake archive
1. Chapter 1

amnesiac

"Thom? How are you feeling now?"

"Sick. Really sick. What happened?

Jonny hesitated for a moment, then... "Y-you...you had a fit at the office, and passed out. You're in hospital, Thom. Don't you remember?" Thom shook his head, which pounded painfully, and looked around- Indeed he _was_ in hospital, the one with the dolphin curtains and the bastard doctor called Paolo who would say 'We're only trying to help' when it was bloody obvious they weren't- He hated it so, and he hated himself for being there. "They want to keep you in for a while, Thom. They want to know what's up with you." Thom nodded. "Okay. Where's Colin and the others? And does Rachel know?" When Thom looked at Jonny he knew there was something up- Jonny looked confused for a brief moment, and then like something was really, really hurting him, and then horribly upset, which hurt him more than he thought it should have, before he spoke in barely more than a whisper. "Thom... the rest of the band are outside. But Rachel...Rachel's not...She doesn't want to know, Thom. She left you last year remember, when she fouund out about you and..." He didn't finish, but could already guess who fit onto the end of that sentence. "Oh God..." Two words which hardly expressed his disorientated state of confusion- As far as he was concerned, it was December 23rd, and the year was 1993, and he was dating Rachel, the girl from his University, but then again he couldn't remember her leaving him so how much else was he wrong on? "Jonny?" When Jonny looked up, he was flushed slightly pink, and his dark hair covered most of his face, but Thom heard him clearly enough. "I'm going to send Colin in. He knows about amnesia and things like that." Jonny stood, and Thom saw the dark red stain of blood that covered his shirt and his jeans, ans spattered across his shoes, and touched his face, which was cold, but clean. Maybe they'd cleaned him up already.

Almost as soon as Jonny had left, a small man carrying a newspaper came strolling in, confidently it seemed, although his face was pinched white and he was barely smiling. He looked slightly like Jonny had, but his nose was larger and he had less hair, and a more intellectual appearance. When he spoke, it was almost a mimickery. "Hello, Thom. How are you feeling now?" Thom shook his head, and puled himself up into a half sitting position before snatching the paper and unfolding it. "Oi!" was Colin's reply, but he didn't snatch it back or tell Thom off like usual- Colin watched as Thom studied the date, watched his confusion as he read out loud. "October 1st, 1997." There was a silent moment then, when a nurse walked by carrying Paracetomol, and the halogen lights flickered eerily, and the buzz of conversation could be heard through the door that Colin had come through, and the nurse, and Jonny. "...1997..." Thom's head swam in a haze of confusion and fear- How had he managed to lose _four years _of his life? "Is this...real?" Colin nodded gravely. "I'm sorry, Thom. What year is it, in your head?" Thom sighed. "In my head? 1993." Colin nodded, looking every bit the psychologist as he considered. "Ok. How many albums have you released?" Thom thought hard for a moment, and then... "Just one. Pablo Honey." Colin winced slightly. "Oh. Ok. Do you remember anything about that year specifically?" Thom nodded. "My hair. Rachel kept telling me to cut my..._hair!" _Whilst talking, Thom had reached up absentmindedly, expecting to feel his long, bleached blond hair, but instead touching rough bristles that felt like barbed wire to him, his face one of pure horror. "Colin... My hair!" Colin reached over and pulled Thom's hands down, placing them safely on the bed, careful of his wires, and said soothingly, "Thom, calm down. It's ok. You're going to be here for a little while, but the doctors will help you out." Thom pulled away and hid under the bed covers, the machines he was hooked up to bleeping and flashing in response, causing several doctors and nurses to come running up to them.

The room was bright white, blinding, and the smell of air conditioning hung in the atmosphere. Thom felt like he was choking on it, and Jonny and Colin were whispering to each other as they waited for Dr. Paolo, who came in at that precise moment looking, as always, too happy. Too happy to work in a hospital, in Thom's opinion. Maybe he was up to something- This whole thing was a conspiracy, right? He cleared his throat. "Mr Yorke-" Thom interrupted moodily. "It's _Thom_." Paolo continued as if the interruption hadn't happened. "_Mr Yorke. _We have the results from your scans and your blood tests. Our scans have picked up on an anomoly, a... malformation on the left side of your brain, basically a tumour. It's about the size of a small orange-" He held up the scan picture, and Thom eyed it worriedly. "-and..I'm sorry, but due to its position we can't operate." Paolo hesitated for a moment, and then he said "We believe it's cancerous."


	2. Chapter 2

It was when they mentioned treatment that Thom really flipped out. Chairs flew, voices rose, rules were broken. He ended up in a confined room with a large window facing front, and he was strapped down to a hard bed- He felt mad as well as ill, and eyed the window more conciously before remembering about the straps. As he glanced at the door, a face he barely recognised flashed past, then another, then he could hear voices and knew from the tone that it was Colin arguing with whoever had gone by. "...I don't think you should keep him there like that, strapped up. He's not insane you know, this isn't an asylum, he's just struggling to cope with everything. He thinks it's 1993 for God's sake! He needs help!" Thom smiled to himself. He could always depend on his reliable Colin to come through for him. The doctor sounded annoyed. "Mr Greenwood, we can hardly accept your opinion after this morning. Somebody could have been seriously hurt! For now, we believe it's for the best to confine him, give him some space. We will be bringing him out to discuss treatment again later in the evening, when he should be more subdued and more likely to listen. You can be present if you require." How was he getting space whilst he was strapped down? "I understand. But can't you please consider losing the straps? I know Thom, and I know he won't want to be stuck there like that. He needs to be able to get around or there's more of a chance he'll flip out again." Thom wanted to laugh but didn't think he could- He prayed the straps would be gone when he woke up, because for some reason he really couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

"Thom...Thom, wake up, come on. You've got a meeting with the consultants in an hour." Colin waited patiently whilst Thom roused himself, and smiled when he got up and looked around- Although he was ill, you wouldn't know it. "Why wake me up so early then?" Thom grinned, then looked around again. "Where's the toilet?" Colin pointed it out, then sorted Thom's clothes into a pile at the end of his bed, feeling sad for his loss, everyone's loss.

When the entered the room, Thom apologised about everything, then they got down to business. "Thom, we hope you're well. Me and my colleagues have been discussing your case, and how best to treat you. As your tumor is located close to the cerebellum, and the brain stem, we believe you may benefit from a several week course of stereotactic radiotherapy, combined with chemotherapy which will be administered orally. You may experience some symptoms such as extreme fatiuge, nausea, but these won't have too much of an effect on your daily life- You may struggle to perform on stage, though, but it's up to you to decide what you'll do. Another option is to let nature take it's course- This would only give you up to 3 months, as your tumor is high grade and may spread, causing brain damage. If you choose to begin treatment, then we will make you a treatment plan, and so on. You have until tomorrow to make your decision, and we're allowing you to go home for tonight."

Thom and Colin left that night unable to speak about the meeting. It was too hard, too painful to imagine a future with this cloud of despair hanging over it, spoiling things, and the alternative... They arrived at Jonny's flat, Colin walked Thom to the door, then left.

When Thom entered, he found that although he had a vauge recognition of the place, he didn't have much of a clue about anything else, but as Jonny showed him his clothes hung in the wardrobe and his guitar -_His_ guitar- was in its case, propped in a corner, with a solemn coat of dust all over that made it seem ghostly. "Jonny?"

His partner turned, and Thom was shocked by his appearance. He was thin, too thin; He had dark rings which suggested he'd not slept for a long while; The most chilling feature was the blood that was congealed on his hands and wrists, and was smeared across his shirt. "_Jonny! Jonny, what...what...why..?!" _ Thom was terrified, confused, worried all at once, and could barely think of a way to express his turmoil; Jonny grinned eerily. "Thom, calm down. I'm ok. Ok. Really. You're the one with cancer, not me." Thom frowned. "Blood..?" Jonny lifted his left arm and pulled back the sleeve- A long, angry-looking gouge ran down the entire length, raw and scabby, still oozing what appeared to be blood and something which made Thom want to vomit but that he couldn't put a name to. "It's not that bad, Thom. It just looks...painful. It's healing. It happened the night you went into hospital." Thom suddenly had a desire to know exactly what had gone on that night, he needed to know badly so he took hold of Jonny's hand. "Tell me?" Jonny led him to the bed and they sat down before he began to speak.

"It was whilst we were discussing marketing for our new album. You said that you didn't want it to look like we were buying into commercialism or something, then you walked out, and me and Colin followed- I asked you what was wrong, you said you had a headache, a migrane, so I told Phil to fetch you some Paracetomol from the shop, and he left...You really didn't look well, you were so pale, and pouring with cold sweat, and so Colin sat you down, or tried to, anyway, but you pushed him away and he fell, he knocked me sideways and my arm went straight through the window when I hit it, I was pouring blood, and Colin went to grab my arm, but then you toppled backwards and started having a fit. It was awful, your eyes rolled back and you were making the most awful choking noises...I remember it so vivid...oh God...they tried to mke me get in the ambulance with you, because of my arm, I was losing a lot of blood, buckets, but I wouldn't, I just...left. I think Ed found me sitting in the courtyard at some point, I think I probably passed out, but I wouldn't talk to him. I went home. I came here. The bathroom's a complete bloodbath, I can't remember what exactly I was doing in there but when I woke up on the settee next morning, my arm was sort of bandaged up, and it had stopped bleeding at last. I went to see you after a few days. That's all, Thom."


	3. Chapter 3

"Mr Yorke, have you made a decision?"

"...yes. I have, yes. I...I don't want any treatment."

"Well we respect your decision, although we will need to make arrangements for you to be placed in a hospice for the terminally ill, if that is ok? You'll recieve more care than we can offer you there."

"Yes. That...it's ok...When?"

"Tonight."

Jonny Greenwood was depressed. Or so he'd been told. Colin never stopped telling him- It was pointless really, how was he supposed to react to the news that his terminally ill partner had chosen to die? He couldn't cope with the news, he hadn't left the house in weeks, he was almost ready to lie down and give himself up. Where would he go, Heaven? No, angels had to be better. Hell? He wondered whether burning in a fiery inferno would be suitable punishment for what he'd done. He'd abandoned Thom, he ignored his calls, he didn't visit, and years ago, when Thom had Rachel, he'd cut up their happily ever after and thrown it in the bin, and it made him feel like a monster, a gorgon like Medusa, although she was surely more beautiful. For the first time in his life, Jonny had grown a half-decent amount of stubble, and the state of whatever clothes he'd been wearing made him vaugely resemble the sort of person you'd associate with seedy bars and filthy street corners, and he wasn't in the least ashamed. He wondered when Colin would get try and get him sectioned..

Thom was in a Hospice. Capital 'H'. He was pumped full of painkillers and drugs, which left him delirious and barely coherent at times- The doctors preferred him like that, because he couldn't argue or fight back or complain about anything, and he didn't keep on asking where Jonny was, although if he knew what a state Jonny was in he'd soon stop asking for him. It was only Colin who bothered to visit them, and even those visits were awkwardly strained and quiet, neither having much to say, although Colin did try and get Thom to talk, and even made a proposal the next time he came. "Thom, how are you today? Are you well?" Colin looked happy, and rumors were he'd shacked up with Ed, or Phil, or some other bloke, but Thom didn't want to mention that. "I'm...ok, I suppose. Sick of seeing my face all over the papers, hering my name on the radio, being featured on the news. Nobody cared until I got ill, nobody bothered-" Colin interrupted, sensing danger, and said "Uh, Thom. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. We, the others, have been thinking and well, what do you think about doing a gig? It might be good for you. We've got permission to take you out already." Thom frowned. "Colin, are you crazy? Mental? Why would I want to draw more attention to myself! I'm sick of this! I can barely walk, Colin, I have to use a wheelchair to get everywhere. I won't..I can't play! I can barely remember my own name some days! If I catch a cold, it could kill me. And you want me to gig. You're fucking out of your mind!" Colin winced- Yes, he'd expected the backlash, but didn't realise to what extent Thom's feelings went, how much he struggled to cope, which was stupid and ignorant on his part, and at that moment he knew there was only one person who could get through to him.

Jonny.

"...colin..."

"Jesus Jon, what the Fuck? What's wrong with you?"

"dunno..."

"Are you on drugs!"

"no..."

"I don't know what to think! You've got to be on something, what is it? Heroin? Coke?"

"colin...no.. i just.." Jonny was slumped slightly against the sofa edge, barely coherent, and he looked all the way an addict, but he wasn't, and Colin was worried sick, and Jonny was just...confused. Lost. Without Thom. "Jonny." Colin was more gentle now, and placed a hand on Jonny's frail shoulder; His brother clutched him desperately, fingers tight. He spoke clearly this time. "Thom." Colin pulled his brother close, holding him safely although there was a height difference, didn't let go as Jonny sobbed brokenly, weeks and weeks of everything spilling out, his fears for Thom and the hatred, betrayal, the depression, held him tightly like he couldn't bear to ever let go, and he didn't want to because Jonny was too...little. It reminded him of when they were young, and he'd follow Jonny around to protect him, how one day he'd taken on a boywho was a lot older, who'd been poking fun, and won, for his little brother. Jonny would always be his little brother, no matter what.


	4. Chapter 4

"Ready?", asked Colin, turning to him brother Jonny- They were stood outside Thom's room, although neither seemed keen to make the move to enter. Jonny was well, or as well as he could be in his current frame of mind, but Colin was working on that because Jonny refused to talk to a psychiatrist or a counselor, and even his own mother, he was clean and he'd shaved and now he just needed the balls to walk through that door and apologize. "I will never be ready", Jonny said quietly, "But I have to try, at least."

Colin gave a reassuring smile and gently patted Jonny's shoulder. "Good luck, Jonjon. I know you can do it." Jonny nodded before placing a trembling hand on the handle- The metal was cool, and it made him realize how sweaty his hands were, which was mad because he just didn't sweat. Never did. The door swung forwards unexpectedly and he stumbled, flushing embarassedly, but regained his composure and walked in, closing it behind him. Thom was slumped against the pillows on his bed, looking like a shell of his former self- He was bone thin, his elbows jutting out and his cheeks hollow, and his eyes were dead, no spark or sign of life. "Jonny", he said softly- He still sounded like Thom, Jonny thought. "Jonny, come here! Stop skulking." In spite of the situation, Jonny actually smiled for the first time and walked up to the bedside. "Thom..." But what should he say? How to say it? He took a deep breath. "Thom, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, about everything. I didn't mean to hurt you or leave you in such a mess. I should have been here-" Thom shook his head and interrupted. "Jon, shush. I forgive you. Now get on the bed." Jonny sat up next to Thom, holding him closely- He was so cold, so thin, so fragile, Jonny felt like he could snap in two at any moment. "I love you, Thom. I love you so much. I'm... "Jonny trailed off; Thom sighed. "If you try and apologize again, I'll kick you out. I love you too." There was silence for a time, then- It was a silence that seemed to settle upon their skin, and stick in the air. It was as if time had stopped, and nothing but the pair of them existed, lived, breathed. Thom looked up at Jonny for a second, and his eyes seemed to have something again, sparkling blue. "Jonny...I want to go." Jonny could barely hold it together when he said that, but swallowed determinedly and said, "Go then. It's ok." He was confused when Thom gave a rasping laugh and said, "No, not go go. I want to go out. I want to smell fresh air instead of air conditioning. I want to feel the wind." Jonny panicked- There was no way Thom could go anywhere in his condition, surely going out would kill him? Jonny couldn't cope with that, being responsible for his death as well as... "No. I won't, Thom. It's too dangerous, it could kill you!" Hearing the upset in his tone made him angry, but he didn't try and hide it- He already felt the pain of being torn in two. Thom sighed. "Jonny", he said softly, "Look at look at me." Jonny did. "Do you think I look like I'm going tolive much longer? Really? It would make no difference." Jonny just stared at Thom, shocked that the determination and stubborn side still held out- It made tears spring to his eyes, knowing that Thom was still Thom, just..."But.. how? Where? When?" The reply was almost immediate. "Ask the nurses for permission to take me out in the day, they won't say no to you. I want you and Colin to organize something with the fans. I want to see the fans again, one last time. Just do it quickly, ok? And soon." Thom picked up the newspaper which lay by him on the desk- He was front page again, the story this time about how thousands of fans had planned to hold a candlelit vigil outside the hospice, but had been removed by armed police due to the risks involved, and about how people wanted to see him again, that they wished to know of his condition. "Look at this, Jonny. I need to see them again, if I really have touched so many people then I need to see them."

"Only a few", Jonny said softly, "Not every single one. There's just too many. But I will, Thom, I promise you I will." Thom smiled and attempted to hug Jonny, unable to tightly squeeze him, but Jonny understood and hugged him back tightly, kissing him once upon his icy lips.

That afternoon, Jonny and Colin sat down to talk about Thom's wishes. It was hard to think about what to arrange that would allow him to meet some of his fans -Not all of them of course, like Jonny said- that wouldn't attract too much attention. So far, they were drawing a blank. "Maybe", said Jonny, "Maybe, we could make, like, a competition on Dead Air Space. If you win you can...um..." Colin picked up. "Only that wouldn't really work. Maybe we could do something along the lines, though. Get Thom to do something like a webcast, maybe? What would he say about singing?" Jonny shook his head furiously. "No performing, no gigs, no no no. NO. Colin, this is stupid! It's completely impossible! There's no way we can do it!" Colin sighed. "Sorry Jonjon." All went silent for a long while, then, apart from a sigh or the turning of a page as Jonny read the paper, trying to he threw it down in annoyance and said, "Colin. Why don't we just do it like this. We announce that Thom's going to be appearing where ever, and say that if people want to go and see him, then they have to...um...have a ticket or something. But there's only 50 or so tickets." Colin nodded, happy Jonny had come up with an idea. "Not fifty. 25 maybe, you don't want too many people. And they have to apply for them on the site. But they'd need to be living in Britain due to time constraints ect. That's it!" Jonny and Colin hugged, glad that the stress and the tension was finally over, that they could relax for a second- That Thom would get his wish, regardless. Later that night, they announced it on Dead Air Space- The response they got immediately crashed the server, and the application limit was soon into the thousands, leaving Jonny and Colin to at random pick the lucky 25, and to tell Thom when the time was imminent, which surely would make his day, month, year...life. "How do we choose?" asked Jonny, and Colin smiled knowingly at him, saying only "Leave it to me", which was confusing to say the least but Jonny just decided to let him get on with it because he was exhausted three ways, desperately craving some form of respite.

The very next morning, Jonny got up to find Colin sat on the settee writing what looked like a letter which disappeared upon his entering the room, and although he asked about it Colin just dismissed it saying it was nothing important, then proceeded to ask "What time are you seeing Thom today?" Jonny sighed. "I told you. Lunch time, he wanted me to fetch him something..." He'd forgotten, but Colin held up the small tube with a grin. "Polo mints, was that, Jonny?" Jonny blushed and whipped them away quick. "It's such a stupid thing," Jonny said with a giggle, "I don't know why he chose Polo's!" He asked Thom when he went to visit, but got a barely coherent mumble as he'd recently been given pain medication and was completely out of it- Would be for a while, the nurses said, so they left him in peace. What Jonny didn't notice is how Colin slid the letter on to Thom's cabinet as they left, silently...


	5. Chapter 5

The very next time Jonny came to visit, Thom was sitting up and on his lap was something knobbly and lumpy, made out of what appeared to be wool. Seeing the stares, Thom held it up, and Jonny saw it resembled a scarf of sorts, only slighly deformed. "Occupational therapy," Thom rasped as Jonny picked it up, "Something to do in my spare time. Which I have a lot of." Jonny turned it over in his hands, smiling. "What's it supposed to be, Thom? A crocodile or something?" Thom frowned. "No. It's supposed to be a scarf, the only way I could knit properly was like that." Jonny placed it back carefully and took hold of Thom's bony hands instead, gently smoothing the skin and feeling his bones. "I'm sorry, Thom. I was being stupid." Thom sighed, but said nothing- Jonny understood he was tired, stressed, fractured, and tried to cheer him up. "We did what you wanted, Thommy. You know, about seeing the fans one more time?" Thom turned to look at Jonny, but he looked as miserable as ever and his face was completely blank as he said "What?," causing Jonny to panic slightly. "Last time I visited you, Thom, last time, remember? You said you wanted to get out, meet the fans and things?" Thom nodded. "Sort of. I'm sorry, my memory isn't great at the moment, nothing's great at the moment...I'm..'m sorry..." Thom dissolved into tears, burying his face in his hands, sobbing brokenly- Jonny just held him, feeling his fragile body heave with sobs, and stroked his bristled head, his icy skin, unable to speak. It was like that for a long time, and Thom eventually subdued and became silent, still shivering slightly althoug hhe was quite warm, and Jonny held him even closer, feeling his heartbeat, hearing the rasping breaths he took. "Jonny, I'm dying. _Dying._ I'm only 29. It's not _fair!_ Why me? Why now? Why!" Thom was shaking now, furious, and Jonny had never been good at calming him down when he got angry but he'd always tried. "Thom, I know, I understand. I don't want you to die. I keep asking myself why you, why now! Why couldn't it have been me? I'd rather die than lose you, Thom, you're my soulmate, my other half, my true love! I can't let you go! I hate seeing you like this, and I couldn't bear to see you at first because I was afraid I'd stop loving you, or you'd stopped loving me, stupid things! I wasted too much time, and now there's not enough time left. You could die at any moment and I wouldn't have been able to say everything that I wanted to! I wouldn't have had enough time..time for you! Time _with_ you! If you die, I won't be far behind." Jonny was silent then, as was Thom- Jonny hadn't said so much in a long time, and could almost feel a weight lifting. It was true, although he'd bottled it up for a long time now, that when Thom's time came Jonny's wouldn't be far behind. There was no way he could live without Thom, there was no way he was going to wake up every day and see light through the neverending darkness the death would surely bring. It was a terrifying thought, and Jonny blocked it out as much as he could but he couldn't block it out forever.

Thom looked up at Jonny then, his lashes stuck with tears, tracks barely visible on his pink cheeks, then looked away, looked again and then said softly, "Together."

Jonny said nothing, thinking things through, and Thom continued. "I want to die, Jon. Every day, when I wake up, I'm in pain. I can't stand up unsupported. I can hardly remember my own name some days! It's so frustrating! Day after day staring at the same four walls, the nurses bring me breakfast, I don't eat it, lunch, dinner! Bloody occupational SHIT!" The scarf bounced feebly to the bed end, and Thom swore. "Bollocks! Jonny, kill me. Kill me!" Jonny wondered silently if he should get the nurses, but he knew Thom wasn't completely raving mad. He was being truthful."Thom...how do you want to die?" Thom shrugged. "Quick. Painless. Easy. But...promise me you'll be there." Jonny held onto Thom's hands firmly and looked him in the eye. "Together?" Thom closed his eyes for a moment, then.. "Together."

"So what time will you be planning to return? No later than 5.30?"

Jonny looked at the clock, and Thom in the wheelchair swathed in his jacket, which was comedic in size, and his blankets. It was gone 4. "Yes. Just a quick walk."

The nurse smiled and made him sign a form, then they walked out into the air- Thom began to shiver immediately, so Jonny wheeled him to the car quickly, having only had it adjusted a week ago on Colin's orders, and got him in the back. "Where are we going?," Thom asked innocently, and Jonny smiled sadly."To a better place, Thommy."

They drove for a while, until the road turned to country lanes, winding and desolate, full of country air, and it seemed they would never stop. Jonny reflected on the situation, thinking of all the happy times with Thom- Sneaking a kiss back stage, cuddling up on the tour bus...in the bedroom. He wanted to cry but now depression consumed him he was completely numb, unable to feel. The clock read 5 when they stopped in an empty clearing, containing little more than shrubbery and trees, and as Jonny dragged the wheelchair backwards he could smell the sea air from over the rocky cliff edge. They weren't going to jump, no, that was too mad, instead...

Jonny set a blanket on the ground, then lifted Thom up with his blankets and sat down with the skinny frame on his lap, leant against him. By his side, two needles lay glinting in the light. "I like it here," Thom said softly, "It's so beautiful up here, I don't ever want it to end." Jonny's voice almost began to wobble as he gently stroked Thom's hair and murmured "This is the place, Thommy. You're safe, now, it won't hurt ever again." Thom held on to Jonny's spare hand."Promise?," he whispered, and Jonny nodded, a tear rolling down his cold cheek. "Promise." It was silent then, for a long time, as the waves pounced hungrily upon the crumbling rock face, and the sun began to slide gently to the other side- Just like they would be, soon. It was the perfect scene, beautifully set, and the pointed needle shimmered hazily in the light as Jonny lifted it quietly. He leant down and whispered in Thom's ear. "I love you. It'll all be over..." There was a pause as Thom met his gaze, watery blue eyes on almost black, soul searching, and Jonny had a momentary lapse, nearly threw it all away...then the needle made contact with Thom's bony arm, causing a swelling instantaneously, and he gsped in shock, clutching Jonny tightly. "Thom..Thom, it's alright, it's ok, shh..." Jonny held him close, feeling his shuddery gasps which eventually slowed, and Thom lay silent in Jonny's arms as he slipped away, no longer in pain, but happier than he'd ever been. Jonny kissed Thom on the forehead, tears tracking on his cheeks, then lay him out on the blanket before injecting himself and laying next to him. holding his hand.

It was at 6pm that Jonny's phone rang, still in his pocket- The hospice, Colin?- but, it was a call that was never to be answered as their bodies lay there together, hands clasped, both finally together and at peace...suffering no longer.


End file.
